a way
station; never mind the discomforts, so that many were helped to the
right road that the home be reached at last, in peace.

She paused at the corner and looked towards Eurie's home, but shook her
head resolutely, she must not go there, it was too late; though she
longed to tell Eurie that Marion was going to Chautauqua, and ask her if
she did not think it possible for them all to meet there.

Then the inconsistent little creature sighed again, for she remembered
Eurie's weary face and the long struggle with sickness, and the long
struggle with ways and means to which she was looking forward. There was
much in the world that she would like to brighten.

Meantime, Eurie, in her home around the corner was arranging the pillows
with tender touch about her mother's head, and drawing the folds of the
crimson shawl carefully about her, as she said:

"Now, mother, you begin to look like yourself: it makes a wonderful
difference to get a touch of color about you."

A very tender smile preceded her answer.

"Dear child! I will be glad to get well enough so that you may have a
chance to get a touch of color about you. You are looking very pale and
tired."

"Oh me, mine is the brightest life you can imagine; there is plenty of
color down in my heart so long as I can think of our Nell leading the
young people's meeting, and father to lead at the mission to-morrow, it
will rest me. I have to keep 'counting my marcies.' To crown them all,
here you are sitting up at this time of night, with a cap and wrapper
on once more, instead of that unbecoming white gown; how pleased father
will be!"

"We have many mercies," the low, feeble voice of the invalid said; "not
the least among them being, our daughter Eurie; but I could wish that I
saw a way for you to have less care, and more rest than you will get
this summer. I must be willing to be very useless, your father says, and
that means hard work for you. When Ruth Erskine was in this afternoon,
looking so quiet, and at rest, nothing to weary her or hinder her from
doing what she chose, I just coveted some of the peace of her life for
you."

"There's no occasion, mother; I am not by any means willing to exchange
my life with hers; I like my own much the best. As for rest, don't you
worry; there'll be a way planned for what rest I need."

Yes, and there was being a way planned, even then; though mother and
daughter knew nothing of it. How queerly people go on, planning the